Raincheck
by hansprinsessa
Summary: Eric and Pam wait to meet the sun. Tumblr prompt fill, based on the 7x06 preview.


**A/N: Tumblr prompt fill, based on the preview for 7x06 :)**

* * *

"Our first sunrise together," Eric muses thoughtfully, not realizing he's spoken out loud until Pam snorts delicately beside him.

"How _romantic_," she answers him sarcastically, and he casts a sideways glance in her direction, wincing at the sight of the silver chains that are slowly eating away at the flesh of her throat and wrists; the second time, he thinks to himself, these same fucking people have brought her to him silvered and afraid.

He sighs, before he shrugs as best as he can in his own restraints. "I suppose it will be," he replies, practically able to hear her roll her eyes beside him, "For a few seconds, anyway."

"Personally, I had my fill of sunshine a few months ago," she murmurs, her voice trailing off towards the end of her statement, her full lips turning down into a frown.

"You looked beautiful in the sunlight," he says suddenly, remembering how she looked with the sunshine on her pale skin, making her hair look even more golden than it does in the moonlight.

He's just about to open his mouth to say more when she speaks, the bitterness of her words catching him off guard.

"Not beautiful enough to get you to stay, though," she bites out, and his head swivels to look at her, the chain draped around his throat pulling against his melting flesh with the movement. When their eyes meet briefly, they both look away, their eyes settling on random spots on opposite sides of the room.

For a long moment, they both remain silent; her in a huff, and his heart undeniably aching. Knowing his death is imminent is hardly new news for him, but he thought he had more time than this. The timer counts down in front of them, mocking the fact that he was stupid enough to think he had time to make up for all the ways he's hurt her a little at a time, chipping away at the wedge he's driven between them over the last few years. To make things better so that when it was time to say goodbye, she'd remember them as they once were, not the mess he had caused them to become.

"I'm sorry, Pamela," he whispers after a long moment, his voice soft but full of honesty.

Again, she snorts, but this time without humor, and he turns his head, watching as she begins picking at the chains that are wrapped around her wrists, burning her fingertips as she tries to loosen them.

"For what?" she asks, before her lips curve into a sad smile. "We've only got seven hours until dawn," she murmurs petulantly, "You better talk fast if you want to make a list."

"For everything," he answers her, turning his head to meet her eyes. "For Sookie. And for Willa. For not telling you about Nora. For leaving you. For how I acted when you found me. For _everything_."

Again, she looks away, back down at the chains encircling her slender wrists, wincing as the flesh on her fingertips sizzles as she tugs at them.

"Pam?" he asks softly, tilting his head to look at her better, able to just barely see from the angle the chains hold him in that another tear is spilling down her cheek, unable to do anything to stop it this time. "Will you forgive me?" he presses her, knowing he has no right to expect her forgiveness, but seeking it nonetheless; unable to imagine meeting the true death without it.

"You're a fucking _idiot_," she hisses between clenched teeth, and his eyes widen in surprise. "Of course I forgive you," she goes on, her blue eyes flashing angrily as she glances up at him, "I _love_ you. It's killed me once, and it's about to kill me again, but goddamn if I don't love you."

He smiles, all but batting his eyelashes at her, his voice dropping to a purr despite their precarious situation. "You do?" he asks her, covering up his real need to know the answer with his flirtatiousness. "Still?"

"Always," she replies, repeating his answer from a few days before back to him, glancing up briefly to give him a small smile.

"I wish I could kiss you," he says softly, his eyes dropping to her lips, still painted pink from the lipstick he watched her apply earlier in the evening, "One last time."

She blinks, before she lowers her eyes again, a coy smile playing on her lips as she whispers, "Raincheck?"

"Raincheck," he agrees with a small nod, settling back in his seat, his eyes turning towards the timer counting down the seconds until sunrise that he knows will deny him the chance.

"Even if it wasn't the end," she adds as he closes his eyes, the silver only causing his already weak body to become more tired, "If you weren't dying. If we weren't meeting the sun. Would you still want to kiss me?"

"I would," he answers immediately, smiling even with his eyes closed, "Very much."

"Good to know," he hears her say, before she hisses in pain, and he opens his eyes just in time to see her tearing the chains away from her wrists, tossing them aside before she pulls the heavier chain around her neck free from the flesh of her throat, before she rises to her feet.

His eyes are wide as she turns, coming to stand between his knees, leaning over in front of him to loosen the chains around his wrists. She grimaces both from the burning in her fingers and the chunks of his flesh that comes off as she removes the chains, down to the bone in some places.

For his part, despite the pain, he's much more interested in how her position has put what he had been admiring all evening on perfect display in front of his eyes.

"This _is_ a lovely dress," he whispers as she frees his hands, although rather than helping her with the chain around his throat, he reaches out to run his finger over her gown's neckline, dipping slightly between her full breasts.

She smirks, speaking as she yanks the chain from his throat as quickly as possible, her sarcastic voice ringing out over his groan of pain, "Thanks. My husband bought it for me."

"Your _husband_ wants to take it off," he growls, and she laughs as she reaches for him, feeling surprisingly lighthearted despite that they still face imminent doom. But if the evening has taught them both anything, it's that they might as well enjoy their time together, rather if it's a few more hours, a few more days, or a couple of months; or if somehow, someway, eternity together will stretch before them once again.

"Come on," she whispers as she reaches for his hand, pulling him to his feet, "They might come back." She drags him towards the door, but pauses when she can hear voices just on the other side, turning to glance up at him before back to the wood as if she can see through it, and what lies beyond.

"Can you fight?" she asks hopefully.

He smiles softly at the back of her blonde head, her hair slightly tousled from their ordeal, and when he answers her, he isn't speaking entirely of the fight that lies outside of the door, but instead the bigger picture; the battle he had forfeited before she found him again and whipped him into shape, the way only she ever could.

"Yes," he answers simply, before he tugs on her arm, stepping forward as she turns to face him, his body pressing hers into the wall of the room that was their prison until she freed them.

"What are you doing?" she whispers breathlessly as his hand grips her chin, forcing her face to turn upwards, her eyes to meet his.

He grins, his fangs exposed as he whispers just before his lips lower to hers in a swift, searing kiss.

"Cashing in that raincheck."


End file.
